


SAitB Sex

by HaroThar



Series: SAitB [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, Enthusiastic Consent, Established Relationship, F/M, First Time, Flushed Romance | Matesprits, Interspecies Sex, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Stockings, Tentabulges, Threesome, Threesome - M/M/M, Vaginal Sex, different tags apply to different chapters, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-13 21:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11193900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaroThar/pseuds/HaroThar
Summary: This is gonna be where all the porn goes for my fic:Somewhere Along in the Bitterness.





	SAitB Sex

**Author's Note:**

> Relevant tags: Tentabulges, light d/s, multiple orgasms, matesprit, established relationship, enthusiastic consent, stockings
> 
> This scene took place the night before John and Feferi went to the hair salon.

Your name is Feferi Peixes, and you have done your time. 

You spent five human years as a ghost, with little to absolutely _zero_ privacy, and a matesprit that slowly lost all interest in you sexually as his body grew and yours did not. You’re glad that, despite the limitations the physicality of a six sweep old brain provided, you were able to mature at a fairly even pace, and the romance was kept alive. But you’re not a ghost anymore, and you’re not trapped in a six sweep old body. You are _eighteen,_ you are _hot_ , and you are _horny_. You are also wearing the lingerie Kanaya helped you pick out, chosen for the way the lace is intricately textured, so Sollux will be able to pick up on it with his psii. There were many pretty patterns at Tiffany’s things, in just as many colors, but if you’re out to seduce your matesprit (which you very, very truly are), you need to wear something that he can get his hands on.

God you want his hands on you. It has been far too extended of a time with far too much sexual frustration in it.

Over your very pretty, lace camisole with a slit down the middle to expose your belly, your matching underwear, and silken stockings with lace on the bands, you are wearing a soft robe. You will be getting rid of this very soon, but first you need to get the hive ready.

“Tavros, don’t be lame!” Aradia is whining at him in the kitchen. 

“Get, someone else to, uh, go with you. I was at an art museum, uh, sometime two half-seasons ago. I don’t really, necessarily, want to go again.”

“Shore you do!” you tell him brightly, checking that the belt of your robe is still securely fastened as you step into view of other people. “It’ll be increbubbly fin, Tavros, you shoald go!”

“If it sounds like, so much fun, why don’t _you_ go?”

“Sollux and I are going to be _here_ tobady,” you say with your best nudge-nudge-wink-wink smile you can give him, but Tavros, bless his heart, does not pick up on it.

“You two have been together, all day. I’ll just, hang out with you two, tonight!” he says cheerfully, turning back to Aradia. “I don’t, want to go,” he says firmly as your earfins point straight to the floor and you feel frustration bubble.

“We could go somewhere that isn’t an art museum!” Aradia says, giving ground because she knows how much you want tonight. You love your moirail so much. You’re also going to take this into your own fronds now.

As Tavros opens his mouth to answer you approach him from behind and slip your arm around his, hugging it as you might if he were escorting you somewhere. The suddenness of your proximity cuts off whatever ship he was about to say.

“Tavros, Sollux is a screamer,” you say, bluntly and with a smile.

You can watch the pieces click. First he blinks, jaw going just a tiny bit slack, then he glances down and seems to notice the fact that you are wearing a robe with black stockings underneath, then glances at the wall of the kitchen the stairwell is behind, then Aradia. You giggle.

“Oh. Art museum. Right.”

“Right!” you agree brightly, giving his upper arm a pat (it’s a nice arm (this observation is not helping with the fact that it’s been five years since the last time you got laid (seriously exactly how much does he work out to get arms this large and soft?))). 

“You two, uh, have fun!” Tavros says, grinning at you with that trademark smirk of his now that he’s in on the dirty joke.

“Oh, we’ll have _loads_ of it!” you chime with a wink, pumpbiscuit picking up the pace now that they’re finally going to be leaving!!

“Not a thing I want to think about,” Aradia says, invading Tavros’s personal space as well in order to turn him around and start pushing. “See you later Feferi!!! Don’t stay up all day- night!”

“No promises!” you call after her, voice singsong and a little gloating (a lot gloating, so very gloating). You’re careful as you go up the steps, not wanting to trip on your hair now that it’s down on the ground (you cannot WAIT for your hair appointment tomorrow, ugh, you love your long hair but it gets annoying when you’re scared of stumbling over it!). You make it up just fine, so you smile a little victoriously and then a lot confidently, striding to the room where Sollux is currently fiddling with Tavros’s computer. Aradia had done something easy and reparable with her psi to it (bless her heart, bless her soul, bless your diamond), and Tavros (bless his soul too) keeps his computer in the same room where the wall can be pulled down into a fold-out concupiscent platform. You’d fitted it with clean rubber and cotton sheets earlier. Not that you don’t trust Tavros to keep his hive maintained, but everyone forgets things sometimes, and if you’re going to be pounding Sollux into the mattress you’d prefer to know how recently the rubber sheets and protective covering have been cleaned.

“Hey Sollux,” you greet, striding across the room. He grunts, enraptured in whatever techy thing he’s doing, and you pull the concupiscent platform down from the wall. He jolts in his seat at the noise and swivels to face you, then, and you drop the robe. His reaction is just what you had wanted: surprise, followed by a slight buzz that makes the hair on the nape of your neck stand up as he “looks” you over, followed by widening eyes, an opening mouth, and an adorable yellow blush.

You cross the room confidently, your stockings making a soft noise of cloth on carpet as you take each step. You can feel yourself grinning, feel your hair billowing out behind you.

“Hey bouy,” you say, voice gone low with a bit of a purr, “meowbeast got your tongue?”

“FF, you-” Sollux splutters, face fixed on you, on the lace decorating your boobs and sides and crotch and ass. You can see his eyes darting up and down your body as if able to see, marking where the attention of his psii is going.

“I?” you cut him off, leaning down over him with a hand on each arm of the office chair he’s in. He swallows hard, then tries to say something but all that makes it out is a wisp of strangled air. “I,” you purr as you move your hands to his thighs, sliding up them and guiding them apart, “am a gill with plans, Sollux.” You pick him up and his legs circle your waist easily.

“Oh,” he says dumbly and you laugh, bright and loud, carrying him to the platform with the same ease you might carry a kitten, or a baby cholerbear. 

“You’re terribubbly cute like this,” you tell him, setting him down on the side of the bed and slipping your hands from his ass to his sides, sliding up under his shirt. “You’d be even cuter without this on, though,” you giggle, prying his shirt and bra from his torso while he’s still trying to figure out how to make words go. His blush is up his ears, now. Too cute. His body sort of follows the clothing as you pull it off of him, which results in him hunching with his face right up close to your boobs, so naturally you have to cup his chin and lift it so you can kiss him. Your bulge stirs excitedly at the contact, as eager as you are to have Sollux naked and pinned. These panties are going to be so soaked.

“You know, Sollux,” you say, saccharine and sweet as you slide onto his lap, “you’re being awfully quiet. A gill might start to think you don’t want this, unless you start making it _very clear_ that you do.”

“Yes!” Sollux shouts, finally snapping out of his stupor, “Yes, please, FF, please oh my god fuck please yes fuck!”

“Oh, you want this?” you croon, sweetly cruel. His hands- since he also seems to have remembered that he has those- come up under your camisole, holding your grubscars as his lower body squirms shamelessly under your thighs and ass.

“Yes, yes, FF, I want this so- fuck- please-”

“Please what?” you ask before kissing his jaw, making his fingers curl against your grubscars (oh god your bulge _strains_ against the lace at that).

“Fuck me!” You purr in hungry delight. “Fuck me, FF, fuck me, please! Please fuck me, fuck me into the platform fucking _please!”_

You stand up and his whine goes straight to your bulge, like most things he’s doing right now. His hands trail after you, hovering in empty space.

“Then get your glubbing pants off!” you order cheerfully, and he cannot comply fast enough. The grey denim hits the floor without ceremony and then your hands are back on his thighs and ass, lifting him away from the platform’s edge and laying him square in the center of the bed. You decaptchalogue a snuggle plush for him to rest his head on, and while he gets it arranged you bend down to kiss his clavicle, his thighs going taut and trembling as they squeeze your hips.

“Oh god, FF,” he gasps, and you respond by giggling and grinding your crotch down against the lips of his nooks. “Oh god!” He’s not exactly fat and puffy with blood or wet to dripping just yet, but you have every intention of getting him there.

“You called?” you ask playfully, shifting your wings into existence and giving them a little flutter. He laughs, and you do too, then you put them away.

“FF,” he breathes, reverent, adoring, hands going up to your hair and pulling to kiss you on the lips. You kiss him with all the enthusiasm of someone who has been sick as shit of waiting for this moment, but grab his hands and guide them from your hair to your ass, pushing his thumbs against the waistline of your panties with your own. Your smart boy, he gets the idea right away; slides them off, over your stockings down to your knees. You have to shift at that point, lifting your weight up off your knees so he can pull your panties down them and leaning instead on your upper body, mouth moving to press against the crook of his neck.

“God!” His whole body shudders. “God, FF, fuck, please, please fuck me now, oh my god please!”

“I dunno,” you coo as he tosses your panties to go sit with his clothes on the floor. He whines and you press your hand down between his bulges (that shuts him up). He has two of them: thin, delicate things that lurch further out of his sheath upon realizing they have something to twine around now.

His silence is short lived, however, and he goes back to pleading gripping you by the bicep of the arm you’re bracing yourself on and the shoulder of the arm you’re using to excite him. He begs you to fuck him, and your own bulge- now free from the restrictive lace- begs you to do the same.

“You think you’re ready for me, bay-bee?” It’s your favorite petname for him: a sea pun and a bee pun, two in one.

“Yes!” he cries, trying to lift himself up off the platform so his nooks are closer to your bulge. You shove down hard, squishing those dainty bulges under your palm and pinning his lower body to the mattress. His full-body shudder sends a shiver down your spine as well. You grab one of his bulges, firm, and with your other hand you guide the tip of your bulge to the first of his nooks. It’s close to his sheath, far closer than most trolls’ are, but it has to be, since his second nook is far closer to his wastechute than most. His hips lift again, a litany of pleas tumbling out of his mouth like swear words fall from Karkat’s. You love how easy it is to get him like this, how quickly you can reduce your precious, darling little asshole matesprit into a begging, desperate mess. 

“Easy, honey,” you croon at him, the lips of your nook parting under the pressure of Sollux’s second bulge, which has wormed its way down between your legs like a good little plaything. “If you try to take me too fast, you’re going to end up hurting yourshellf.”

He whines and squirms, which makes your bulge thrash (good thing you’re still only partway in), but he knows you’re right. You can feel him leaking, though, warm yellow lubricant tracing tiny trickles down your bulge and- undoubtedly- down his second nook and taint, too. You lean on your arm, still holding his bulge in your other hand, and kiss him briefly before returning full focus to where the two of you are linked and dripping. 

“FF, please, I want you so badly please, fuck, please, FF please, god, FF, please,” he’s babbling. “C’mon, fishstick, stick me with your fish dick,” he says suddenly, and it catches you so off guard your arm slips out from under you. You accidentally collapse on him, laughing.

“Sollux, _what?”_ you ask incredulously, body shaking with laughter and face pressed into his shoulder.

“I want you to spear me with your nautically themed cock,” Sollux tells you through his own laughter.

“Good _lord_ Sollux!” you say, snorting as you burst into another round of giggles, propping yourself up onto your elbow again. “You can’t just- I’m trying to be _sexy_ here cod clammit!”

He wiggles his eyebrows at you, licking his lips and snickering still. You kiss him happily, sweetly, then sit all the way back up, hand leaving the mattress to rest instead on his thigh as you loom over him, hair billowing out behind you, blocking out the light and casting a large shadow over his lying form. You hear his breath catch as the mood in the room returns from comedic back to lustful.

“So you want me to give you my bulge?” you ask, voice a saccharine croon. His thighs go loose from where they grip your hips, now spreading, offering. You squeeze the bulge still in your hand in approval. 

“Ye-ES!” Sollux cries out when you push into him, rougher than you ever have before. You yield when you hit resistance, but you’ve got your bulge most of the way in now, and your boyfriend is back to sucking air and shivering with arousal underneath you. You’re bent over him again and he’s clawing at your back, the blunted nails he keeps short and filed down for ease of typing making his fingers less than useless at doing anything other than causing a sensation. That goes straight to your bulge. You are so very, very aroused.

Your breathing is labored, you’re amused to notice. You’re also amused to notice how much he’s squirming under you, and how wiggly his bulges have become in your grip and nook. God, what he might lack in girth he makes up for in length. You’re pretty sure he can corkscrew his bulge as tight as it’ll go and still hit the back of your nook when he’s fully in.

“Hold this,” you tell him, pinching the tip of his bulge in a way that makes him gasp out a squeak and quickly grab his bulge at the root, his fist squeezing much harder than you had been.

“Good bouy,” you croon, kissing him again. “You’re doing fintastic, bay-bee. Tell me how you’re eeling?”

“Good, fuck, so good, FF _move_ , please!”

You giggle again and slide your hand up under his back to grip his shoulder (smearing yellow lubricant across his back and shoulder while you’re at it). “Eager. I’d hurt you, Sollux!”

“I can handle a little pain!” he whines, hand moving on his bulge and body trying so hard to rock up into yours. You snort, but don’t deny him, despite common sense telling you not to do anything genuinely uncomfortable to your matesprit.

You push in, forcing the resistance in Sollux’s nook to yield to your pressure. He hisses pathetically and you stop short.

“Change your mind?” you tease, pushing no further.

“Maybe,” he grits out, whole body taut as a wire underneath you.

“Do you want me to pull back out a little?” you ask gently, thumbing the skin on his thigh and holding him close to you around his back.

“No,” he answers instantly. “Just- a second, fuck, I want you so bad, I want you pounding into me, FF, I want you, I want you, I want you, fuck I want you, please, I wa- fuc-ck, please, please, FF,” he starts babbling again, working himself up as his nook adjusts to your bulge. You start up a steady pressure, only pushing in as far as his nook will let until you’re finally fully hilted inside of him. You moan when you do, and his words choke off as his whole body shudders again. His other hand moves from your back to your tits, to your grubscars, to your ass and finally down onto your stockings. Yeah, you know your boy. You know what he likes, what kind of nasty little kink gremlin he is.

“Like what you feel?” you ask before kissing him, and he moans loudly against your mouth. You giggle and nip his lower lip. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

 _”Yes,_ FF, fuck, yes, yes, yea-ah, yes yes yes please fuck yes fuck FF yes please!” He squeezes at your thigh, rubs his hand up and down the silk, thumbs over the lace band. 

“Ohhhh, it’s been too glubbing long,” you moan, starting to move. You’re so hot, your face especially feels like you’ve been standing in front of a grill, and your bulge (oh god your bulge) is tight with that just-shy-of-uncomfortable fire that means you are close to an orgasm already. Fuck. God fuck your matesprit is too hot for his own good.

“Eheheh…” Sollux chuckles. You “hm?” and keep moving your hips, your bulge terribly excited as it curls and twines inside his nook.

“You really had today, fuck, all planned out, didn’t yo- oh!” His body lurches under yours, pressing up into you hard and hiding his face in the curve of your neck, obscured entirely by the mass of your hair falling down on that side of your body.

“Shore did!” you tell him brightly, aiming for that spot again. Looks like you managed to stumble upon a pair of shameglobes.

“FF please FF please FF please FF please FF please FF please FF please,” he begs, body jerking and twitching. He’s back to “clawing” at your shoulders, but he doesn’t let go of his second bulge. His first bulge is spasming in your nook, wet as the sea and wigglier than an eel. 

“What was that?” you ask sweetly, starting to lose your rhythm.

“Please!” he shrieks, “Please! Please! FF please!”

You go harder, cutting off his coherency so he’s just a mess of half-words and animal noises of arousal. You’re not feeling very coherent yourself. In fact, you think coherency is the last thing on your mind, as you breathe in the smell of his sweat and both of your arousal, as you press your boy close to you like you haven’t been able to in sweeps, as you fuck the first of his pretty nooks and rock the bed beneath you. It’s enough to make a girl lose her damn mind. So you do.

“Scream for me,” you manage to get out, unsure if you’ve been babbling or gasping in the same unintelligible way that he has or not.

Then you come, slurry flooding into his nook and immersing the bulge inside yours. He does scream for you, his fist pumping at his bulge so fast his shoulder is jerking the rest of his body with it, arching up off the bed and coming just a moment behind you. The wet heat fills your nook alongside your own slurry, and splurts out around your bulge, yellow and fuschia spewing as his nook hits carrying capacity. He comes from all four organs, so you both end up with yellow spattering across your chests thanks to his bulge (Sollux much more so than you, yay gravity!).

You collapse on him, breathing heavily, and he goes limp underneath you. You’re both shivering from the aftermaths of your orgasms, and his other hand comes up around your back to hug you just as close as you’re hugging him. You worry momentarily about your hair suffocating the two of you, then giggle at how silly of a death that would be. Sollux chuckles too, and you- giddy with the atmosphere- are prompted into an all out laugh. Sollux gets caught up in your exuberance and the two of you end up having a nice post-coitus gigglefest, nuzzling at each other’s laughing faces, petting each other’s hair with fumbling hands, close and hot and sweaty and feeling _wonderful!_

“Fuck, FF,” Sollux eventually says through his departing giggles. “Fuck, you were amazing.”

“You too,” you chime happily, glad to see Sollux this relaxed/happy/not-grumpy-for-once. You stop hugging him in order to prop yourself up on your elbows, hands resting on his belly and drawing idle nothings with your fingertips on his boobs. His arms rest around your neck, now. “You know, mister number two bouy…”

“Hm?” Sollux hums, intrigued.

“I could _eely_ go for a second round,” you tell him with a grin, splaying your fingers and giving his (adorably tiny) tit a squeeze. He shudders and you feel an electric shiver cast over your body. Feeling you up with his psii, is he? You giggle, kissing him again and he kisses back eagerly, hands moving to grip your shoulders and tug at you.

“Yes!” he gasps as soon as you break the kiss, “Yes, yes, yes FF, yes, please, please fuck me twice please fuck yes yes fuckyes, please, yes fuck yes please FF, FF, FF please fuck yes!”

You giggle and kiss his throat, which he dutifully exposes to you with an upturned chin. Then you kiss his clavicle, then the hollow between his breasts, where your lips are met with cooling slurry. You lick a thick, broad stripe between his tits, and he shivers, breathing loudly through his nose. You lean your weight more onto one elbow, shifting your body so you can kiss his tit, right on the tip of the mound, then pull some of the skin between your lips and suck on it. Sollux’s hands move from your shoulders to your hair, clinging to the back of your head, as you suck and lave at his breast. There’s not much fat there, but it’s still more than enough to get him squirming and blushing, more than enough to get your bulge reinterested. You left it in his nook for convenience’s sake, not really in the mood to take it out, but as you shift down his body you’re sure it’ll pull out. His will probably get tugged from your nook, too. But right now, you’re more interested in shifting your weight onto your other elbow and kissing his other tit. Can’t leave it out of the fun! Sollux’s fingers are curling in your hair and his legs are coming up around you again, his thighs against your lower grubscars. You reach down and give his ass a squeeze, sucking hard on his tit at the same time. He gasps, hands fisting in your hair, and you giggle. 

Then you slide your hand up to his hip and push, using it to brace your weight as you shift back to the center, kissing and licking down his chest and belly, tasting slurry. Your bulge slips out of his nook as you go down, and his, yours (a beat later, it’s absurdly long), and you can feel your seedflaps closing around the retreating bulges, trapping slurry inside until you can get the two of you bent over a pail. As you trail farther down, his hands move from your hair to your horns, holding you by them as though he might try to fruitlessly direct you. But you’re a gal on a mission, and that is your mouth and the crevice between his bulges. They curl around your face as you suck at both their roots, streaking yellow across your mouth and cheeks and one of your goggle lenses, but you could care less.

“Hold these,” you order before lowering yourself even further so you can lick a thick, fat stripe up over the lips of both his nooks in one stroke. He keens, holding his bulges in one hand and covering his mouth with the other. You tut as you prop yourself up. He’s gorgeous like this, eyes shut, face yellow down his neck, mouth covered and hair plastered to his sweaty forehead. God, you want to fuck him until you see the cosmos.

“Sol-lux,” you call sweetly, singsong. “Hold my hand, honey.” You pull his hand from his mouth, and he makes an embarrassed noise- which in turn only makes him more embarrassed. “There’s my good bouy! I can hear you much betta pike this!”

You go back down between his legs and lick again, and his thighs squeeze against the sides of your head reflexively. You giggle and kiss at his nooks, sucking and sticking your tongue in past the conservative barriers of his seedflaps for fleeting, teasing moments. He tries not to squirm, lest he bump you or something, but he can’t stop all the needy, high pitched myriad of noises that tumble from his mouth. You lean on the elbow that’s holding hands with him and stick two fingers into his lower nook, the one you hadn’t fucked, and his body jerks. You stretch him out, listening to his “please”s and “fuck me”s and eventually adding a third finger, patiently (you’re not patient, you’re not patient at all, your bulge is out and curling again and you want to _rail_ him) preparing him.

When you pull your fingers out he makes a sound like he’s about to die.

You laugh.

“On your knees for me, sweetheart,” you croon at him, backing up enough that he can scramble onto his side then up onto his shaking knees.

“You want this so badly, don’t you?” you ask, lining your bulge up to his nook and sinking in like a _dream_. Hardly any resistance, and none that would cause him pain or slow you down.

“Yes!” he shrieks, “Yes! Yes! I want this so bad FF I want you so much fuck, fuck _me_ I want you so much I want you so bad!”

“Kelp the bulge you didn’t use last time into my nook, darling. Oh, just pike that, there sugar just pike that,” you praise as he guides his bulge down and it slithers in past your seedflap. He holds his other bulge after guiding the first, and you grab his wrist and pin it above his head. You grab his other wrist and pin that too, both under the same hand, and you feel his bulge writhe inside you, the walls of his nook squeezing your cock, as you pin him. Sure, he has his psii, and you’re no danger to him, but at the moment he is particularly helpless underneath you.

“You don’t get to touch yourshellf this time, sweetie,” you tell him cheerfully, “Or maybe you do, I guess. Depends on your dolphinition.” You grab his bulge yourself, leaning your weight on his trapped wrists and your own knees in something of an awkward position. Then you guide it into his own nook. There was a reason you used the one closest to the base of his bulges first, after all. You have planned everything. Mostly everything. Okay so maybe this was a half planned thing but it is working hella in your favor. 

Sollux also seems to feel that it’s working in his favor, given his low moan and the way he’s trembling under you. You let go of his wrists with a reminder not to touch himself, then press your hand to the back of his skull. You push his face into the snuggleplush, giggling a tiny bit to yourself, and Sollux’s fingers curl into the sheets.

“Can you breathe pike this, bay-bee?”

“Yeah,” he gasps, breath hard but not sounding like he’s struggling too much for it.

“You want me to fuck you pike this? Want me to press your face into the platform and fuck you from behind?” you ask, half to be seductive and half because consent about this kind of thing is very important.

“Yes! Yes, FF, fuck me like a barkbeast please! Fuck me any way you want me, please, I just want you, please I just want it I want you I want you to fuck me so bad, FF please!”

You thrust into him hard, as hard as you dare, grabbing his hip and pinning his head and gasping at the sensation before the gasp turns into a moan. Sollux is moaning too, loud and noisy and messy-babbling as you try to set a rhythm. It’s a little tricky, you’re very out of practice, but soon you’re pounding into him as hard and fast as your pusher desires and it’s exhilarating! You’re pretty sure you’re drooling. You know for a fact Sollux is. He’s clawing at the sheets, useless for shredding but that’s probably a good thing. He doesn’t touch himself at all, doesn’t struggle against the hold you have on his head in the slightest. You have total command over him, and you fully intend to use that power to make him delirious with pleasure. You might already be halfway there. You might also be a little foggy-brained yourself, muddled with arousal and the deep, carnal, primitive urge to fuck and fuck and fuck and not stop until you’ve drained every ounce of slurry from your system and shoved it into him.

You find another set of shameglobes in his second nook and your bulge presses up against them hard. Between your bulge filling his lower nook and his own bulge in the upper, everything is tight, but he’s loosened up enough from arousal and your fucking/preparing him that it’s the good kind of tight, the stuffed, slurry-and-lubrication-spilling-out-around-the-sides-of-your-bulge tight. He’s trying so hard to rock up into you, but with his head pinned it’s a little hard for him to do anything other than squirm, toes curling and fingers clawing into the sheets as he begs for something nameless. Probably what you’re already giving him.

Then his bulge stumbles across _your_ shameglobes and you see fucking _stars._

“Oh Sollux!” you shout over his own loud jibbering. “Fuck! Sollux! Right there! Right there!”

There’s not much he can do, aside from continue to submit to you (which he does beautifully), but his bulge manages to stay pretty well in contact with your globes. You are losing a significant amount of higher-level thinking.

It takes longer the second round than the first, but before long you’re letting go of his hair and grabbing him by both hips, lost in the primal urge to just _fuck._ You come hard, slurry spluttering out around your bulge and even some squirting from your nook, since he comes only a beat later and you are both so full. He screams again, without prompting this time, and with a final moan you pull yourself from him and then collapse down next to him on the platform. He’s limp and noodly as you snuggle into him, your arms circling around his waist and your face pressing into his shoulder. He rests his head between your horns and hugs you around the neck, hands in your hair.

“Fuck,” he gasps, breathing hard, “Oh fuck.”

“Yeah!” you agree with a tiny, short-lived giggle that’s more gasp than laugh. You’re breathing so very hard. Talking is probably not the best decision at the moment but damn if either of you are going to shut up. “Sollux, bay-bee, you were finomenal!”

“And you were- fuck. Fintastic.”

You laugh again, still a hard task when your body is trying to focus more on heaving air, and kiss his clavicle. “My good bouy,” you praise, purr starting up in your sub-vocals. He meeps when his own purr kicks up in response. You would tease him for it: mr. grumpy gills _purring,_ oh what a scandal! But you’re a little more invested in catching your breath still. It’ll have to be saved for later. 

Eventually, both your breaths slow, and the two of you are left just purring and cuddling. You’re debating decaptchaloguing a snuggle plane, since now that you’re not moving you’re feeling a touch chilly, when Sollux groans and bonks his chin against your head to get your attention.

“FF, I gotta empty out, my nooks aren’t meant to hold this much material.”

“I wonder why that is,” you tease, knowing damn well his nooks are half-sized in order to compensate for the fact that there are two of them. The two of you stagger up onto your knees, and you decaptchalogue a bucket onto the mattress between your thighs. You hug Sollux close to you, your face in the crook of his neck and him leaning his tiny, pathetic weight onto your significantly more solid form, as you both reach down and convince your seedflaps to recede and let the slurry fall into the pail beneath you. As he fingers his nooks open, a third, tiny orgasm shivers through him, which makes you laugh.

“Feel good?” you croon.

“So good, fuck,” he mutters quietly, body twitching every now and then. You captchalogue the bucket again, now full, and Sollux kisses you, sweet and easy, before he lays back down. You toss out a few more snuggleplushes, arranging them against the wall, and stay sitting up, your thigh near his face. Huh. Looks like somewhere in there one of your stockings fell down around your calf. You pull your knee up so you can get your stocking back on properly.

“Y’know, FF,” Sollux says as he “watches” you with his psii.

“Hm?” you hum, debating if you should just take your camisole off or leave it on. It’s super cute, and definitely flatters how absolutely amazing you look, but your matesprit is utterly naked and there’s that yellow genetic material on it (thank fuck slurry doesn’t stain like blood does).

“I had a third orgasm when we emptied out. That’s an odd number.”

You smirk.

“Is that so? Oh, whale, we can’t just leave it pike that, prow can we?”

“I don’t think we can, FF,” he says, hand rubbing on the lace of the thigh that’s closest to his face.

You decaptchalogue a bottle of tea. “First we drink somefin though!”

“Oh, god, yeah,” Sollux says, probably realising just now how thirsty he is. He pulls a mountain dew out of his sylladex and downs half of it in a go. Not that you’re much better: your tea is gone just as fast. It’s the kind that’s heavily caffeinated. You don’t really plan on much sleep just yet, and you do hope Sollux is aware of just how much you will be staying very, very awake. You ought to just tell him, then!

“Sollux,” you purr, tossing the empty bottle at the trash can near the door. You make the shot. You stroke your fingers along the line of his jaw, such a fine and pretty thing he is. “Betta chug that mountain dew; there’s no sleep tobay for you.”

He grins and laughs nervously, tossing back the rest of his bottle and sending it in the same direction you’d thrown yours with his psii. 

“Yeah?” he says quietly as you pull him up onto your lap, knees coming up behind him to make sure he doesn’t fall off like a total klutz or something.

“Oh yeah,” you tell him, voice low and fangs bared in a smirk. You hold his hips and look up at him from where you sit enthroned in snuggleplushes and the abundance of your own hair, his hands on your breasts and your claws dancing delicate lines on his ass (the ass that sits right on top of your sheath, where your bulge is now stirring curiously once again).

“Now show me how much you want it,” you order. While his eyes might be blind, that doesn’t mean you can’t see them fill with love, his smile lopsided and a snaggly fang biting into one side of his lower lip, shoulders lifting a touch and blush returning full force. He gives your tits a squeeze, and then your pretty boy sets to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Fun fact: I have four sex scenes planned and mentally drafted. This was not one of them.


End file.
